


Rust & Gold

by thelilnan



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Nonbinary Beelzebub (Good Omens), Other, Pining, Purple Prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 15:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19815313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilnan/pseuds/thelilnan
Summary: Beelzebub's mouth tastes like sulfur.





	Rust & Gold

Beelzebub’s mouth tastes like sulfur.

It tastes like charcoal, rust, and fire. Zir head, zir body, zir very being is composed of twisted metal, cracking and splitting in the hellfire that rages in zir chest. Ze is one of the original demons, one of the first to follow Lucifer into the pit. Ze never looked back on those days before the Fall, finding the flames of Hell licking at zir back a comfort. Ze knows zir place.

But it doesn’t mean that Hell is perfect.

There’s a loneliness that comes with being a demon; even the Lord of Hell finds zirself suffocating on nothing as ze pushes through the crowded corridors of the damned. Ze doesn’t need to breathe—no one does—but there are moments when ze will gasp for air and light and anything other than the hot, wet, crowded hallways of Hell. Ze may be the second-in-command but everyone suffers down here.

Gabriel tastes like lightning.

He tastes like the thunder that follows the mighty crackling from dark storm clouds. He tastes sharp, like licking a battery; so holy it hurts, so pure it squeezes the breath from your lungs. More than this, he is steadfast, he is confident, and he is always right.

Gabriel has never felt loneliness. He has known his worth since time itself began, when God was creating Her legions; Her children. Gabriel is one of Her favorites. He knows it. He carries it like a medal of valor; a weapon more holy than any forged metal. He is divinity incarnate. He can do no wrong.

Gabriel tastes like gold spilling down your throat. He tastes like opulence itself; like diamond dust that eats away at your mouth until you bleed but it tastes so _good._

It tastes like blood to Beelzebub. Like copper, like nails, like razors in zir throat. Gabriel’s hands feel like sandpaper dragging the Damnation itself off zir skin. His body inside zirs feels like being split in half.

Even now, gasping underneath him, when ze had been fighting for breath in Hell mere hours ago, crowded, stinking, aching for sunlight, Beelzebub finds that ze can finally clear zir lungs. They flood with Gabriel’s holiness like battery acid, like drowning in gold. It _hurts._ He’s so holy it burns hotter than any Hellfire on Beelzebub’s naked skin, normally covered in blisters and boils that have since been soothed over by a single glance from the Archangel.

_Put them back._

_No, they’re disgusting._

_Put them_ **_back._ **

_When we’re done._

Hand to God, to Satan, to whoever you like, Beelzebub didn’t care. Ze fought because ze knows ze has to. It’s all ze can do to fight the ache deep inside zir chest whenever the angel is near. It feels like zir soul—should ze have one—is being ripped from zir ribcage and flung into darkness. If Gabriel ever felt this himself, he never said it.

They never said much of anything.

Beelzebub is panting louder now, hands gripping the sides of Gabriel’s face as the Archangel picks up his pace. His hand is on Beelzebub's chest, just under zir throat. His jaw is clenched, nothing more than a low grunt escaping now and then, and if Beelzebub had the presence of mind to realize this, it would have driven zir insane. But ze didn’t. Ze doesn’t notice much of anything besides the light erupting in zir chest and the taste of diamonds on the tip of zir tongue.

The two of them climax at the same time. No one says a word.

They part after some time, ignoring the mingling tastes in their mouths, the pull inside their chests, and the marks on their skin. It’s more than superficial; Gabriel finds rust on the corner of his temple days later. Beelzebub finds gold flaking off under zir chin.

It’s a little easier to breathe.


End file.
